


Mistle I Told You Soe

by BadHidingSpot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, M/M, Nymphs - Freeform, match making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadHidingSpot/pseuds/BadHidingSpot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from steamcurious: At the McCall Christmas party, Sterek fight against a monster that disguises itself as mistletoe, all the while trying to keep a stressed-out Melissa and her many party guests (mostly the pack) from finding out that there’s any cause for worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistle I Told You Soe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steamcurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamcurious/gifts).



> As usual: unedited.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Derek said in his gravely, big boy, I know something but I’m not going to tell you because that would make the mystery less fun for me. Stiles rolled his eyes and wielded the hammer wildly against the nail. He fell back and Derek caught him easily holding him bridal style.  
“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled trying to wiggle his body out of Derek’s grasp rather than, you know, just stepping down. “If you’d been holding the ladder like I asked I wouldn’t have fallen.”  
“I don’t think the mistletoe is a good idea.”  
Stiles was at the top of the ladder in seconds and Derek, despite his protestations, did set his cider down and come to hold the ladder still. He looked ready to pounce and catch Stiles again though, should the need arise. “It’s a Christmas tradition, Big Guy,” Stiles said assuredly as if this was the only thing that had made Derek apprehensive. Oh it’s a Christmas tradition you say? Well I hadn’t realized. I thought you were just being crazy. Continue. Stiles wasn’t sure if he’d imagined Derek saying that or if his face had given it away. Either way it was clear Derek still had a problem with it and in true Derek fashion was not revealing what it was.  
“Why is it so important for you to hang it anyway? This isn’t even your house.” Stiles hammered in the nail so that the noise interrupted Derek’s Grinch-ly attitude. Somehow Derek still managed to shout his point across. Stiles turned around and sat on the fourth rung of the ladder peering down at Derek with the haughtiness of youth.  
“Listen, it’s a party right?” Derek was going to answer but Stiles made it clearly, instantly, that all questions from this point forward in the explanation were rhetorical. “So at a party people have nog and get a little friendly. Then people see mistletoe and they get even friendlier and then realize that they should be married and move in together and get me and Scott bunk beds.”  
“Gross,” Derek said flatly and Stiles scrunched his nose up at him.  
“They’re the perfect couple. Shut your face.”  
“You and Scott are too old for bunk beds,” Derek continued unfazed by the command for his face to move into a shut position.  
“Next you’ll be telling me my Batman sheets are too young for me.”  
“Do you really want Scott poking his head down from the top bunk-”  
“I would obviously get the top bunk-”  
“While I’m going down on you?” Stiles went a little rigid all over and a lot rigid in one place in particular. Derek made a face that was a cross between a sneer and arousal and leaned in closer. Stiles put up the hammer as a deterrent knowing that his own hands would betray him and instead of keeping Derek at a distance that left room for the holy spirit would only turn to encouraging groping.  
“Share more Mr. Hale-Mc-Scrooge,” Stiles insisted, “why is my dad and Scott’s mom finally tying the knot such a bad idea?”  
“I could not care less about that,” Derek admitted placidly, “I think the mistletoe in general is a bad idea.”  
“What?” Stiles looked up at the little plant hanging innocently, if not a little cock-eyed, from the door frame. “They don’t eat it. They just kiss under it.”  
“You don’t really want to watch your dad kiss someone do you?”  
“I will have to get used to that. If all goes according to plan.”  
“Mistletoe is dangerous,” Derek went on, “or have you forgotten?”  
Stiles wanted to roll his eyes but instead he pecked Derek on his cheek bone. “No evil witches here. Just your friendly-run-of-the-mill-step-mom-creating-kissy-plant.” Stiles patted Derek a little too condescendingly on the jaw because the bigger man pulled away scowling.  
“I want more cider,” he grumbled. Stiles skipped after him holding onto the hammer for a long time before setting it down somewhere random.

Melissa did not appreciate that Stiles had ruined her door frame but really, considering all the other things ruined in her house by either Stiles or a werewolf encounter, things could have been worse. She did give Stiles a firm talking to though about it and he agreed that he would ask permission from now on before doing anything that involved a set of tools. When she left him alone with Derek he turned to his kind-of-boyfriend and sighed “See how she treats me? She’s the perfect mom.”  
“You are probably delusional,” Derek muttered drinking his fifth cider. Stiles was about to tell him to slow down but then it wasn’t like Derek could get drunk and lose himself anyway. Which was a shame. Seeing Derek roll around on the dance floor might have been fun.  
“What are you douchebags talking about?” Jackson interrupted. Derek swatted him loudly on the back of his head and Jackson yelped in pain. “Sorry,” he amended in a way that showed he was not at all sorry, “What are you talking about?”  
“My future as the perfect step son,” Stiles answered eyeing the mistletoe that his dad was not under and neither was his dad’s future second wife.  
“Stiles thinks that Melissa and John are going to get married if they are forced to make out in front of several teenagers,” Derek amended as if the statement needed amending.  
“Gross,” Jackson agreed.  
“You guys are such downers. What is that about? After you lose a certain amount of body fat do you just lose your sense of child-like wonder and romance as well?”  
“No,” Derek answered simply in that way he did when he thought that one of Stiles stupid questions was an actual question.  
“Is Scott in on this? Have you two been watching ‘Parent-Trap’?”  
“What’s ‘Parent-Trap’?” Derek asked. Stiles, in a moment of dramatization, threw his drink in Derek’s face while screaming in surprise.  
“God damn it, Stiles,” Derek growled picking up some napkins and trying to clean himself. Jackson was struggling with his own laughter.  
“Stiles!” Melissa shouted angrily from the other side of the room. “Don’t make a mess! Please!” That was not a good tone. That was her stressed out tone. That was her worked-a-double-shift-doing-a-doctor’s-job-but-without-the-great-pay tone. He put up his hand and waved in apology.  
“Okay new plan,” Stiles whispered to Jackson and Derek as if they had been a part of the initial plan and as if that plan had been more complicated than: Melissa plus John plus mistletoe equals marriage. “Melissa is not going to kiss anyone if she’s stressed out about this party. So we need to make this party as de-stressing as possible for her.”  
“Distressing would be a terrible idea,” Jackson corrected.  
“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled, “you took one English AP class and you think you can fiddle with semantics. I am the semantics fiddler here my frenemy. You are the muscle.”  
“No don’t worry about me,” Derek said sarcastically, “I’ll just change shirts later. I love being drenched in Pepsi.”  
“Fine fine,” Stiles huffed, “go upstairs and wash up or something. I’m sorry. But we need to get Melissa and Dad under-what the fuck?” Stiles had turned around to look at his well hung creation but it was different. In the span of what must have only been a few seconds it had grown hugely its branches and seeds multiplying. “That wasn’t like that before.”  
“Oh Jesus,” Derek grumbled, “it’s a Nymph.”  
“What?” Stiles asked.  
“I’m out,” Jackson said but was grabbed painfully by the back of his shirt and held in place by Derek.  
“It’s a woodland nymph. They’re like fairies-”  
“Are fairies real?” Stiles asked.  
Derek plowed forward, “except that they can only possess things of their element. They cause mischief mainly.”  
“So nothing big to worry about?” Stiles asked in hope. “Just a little bit of fun and games?”  
“Fun to a nymph would be covering the entire house in mistletoe and not leaving anyway out.”  
“That would probably kill us all, right?” Jackson figured. Derek nodded gravely.  
“No!” Stiles moaned holding it out for what both Jackson and Derek felt was too long and a little over dramatic. “Melissa is going to freak! She can’t host a party that kills everyone! Then she’ll never marry my dad.”  
“And they say my priorities are fucked up,” Jackson mused sipping his eggnog.  
Stiles put both of his hands on Jackson’s back and shoved him away. “You go distract Melissa, make sure no one finds out about this nymphet thing-”  
“That’s Nabokov,” Derek injected.  
“And Alpha Grinch and I will get rid of it.”  
Jackson, who did not look like he liked be commanded by Stiles but would do so anyway because of fear from Derek’s punishment, shuffled off to find Melissa and help her with anything she needed that did not put her in the vicinity of a killer plant.  
“All right how do we get rid of it?” Stiles asked turning to Derek. Derek shrugged.  
“I’m not sure that you can get rid of one.”  
“What?” Stiles groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me? What if we just, like, put it outside?”  
“That wouldn’t solve the problem. Looks like it definitely wants to grow and consume the house.”  
Stiles looked back quickly and saw the once little plant had taken over the entire frame of the door and was growing down into a curtain over the entry way.  
“Frack, frack, frack!” Stiles cursed and ran over to it starting to pull out branch after branch but the more he pulled the more were grown to take their place.  
“Stop that!” Derek hissed pulling Stiles away. “You’re making it worse.”  
“Come up with a solution then!” Stiles hissed. “Can we set it on fire?” As if it heard this, and in all likelihood it did, the plant shook and snarled and wrapped its vines around Stiles pulling him upwards. Stiles yelped but bits of mistletoe grew into his mouth to clog it. Stiles only had a second to imagine himself dying like this before Derek jumped up, cut the branches with his claws, and sailed back to the ground with Stiles in his arms.  
“No,” Derek answered him, “we don’t burn it. We just need to redirect its attention somehow.”  
“You want some Pepsi?” Stiles asked the plant holding his cup up to it. One of the vines whipped it out and the plastic cup went crashing to the floor. “More of a Coke drinker eh?”  
The plant shuttered and Stiles heard the distinct sound of….giggling?  
“What the hell was that?”  
“You made it laugh,” Derek seemed shocked by the fact that someone had found one of Stiles one liners funny more than by anything else in this weird situation.  
“Hey, um, Miss or Mister Nymph,” Stiles said unsure how the creature identified, “you want to join the party? You could drink some of the cider and maybe pick the music. Jingle Bell Rock hasn’t played yet.”  
The vines seemed to be retreating back into themselves until one zipped up and pulled the nail out of the wall where Stiles had hammered it. Then the whole thing fell and shifted and merged together until at last it stood up, a very lovely dark skinned maiden smiling pleasantly at Stiles and Derek.  
“Thank you,” she said, “I do love a party.” She put her arm under Stiles’ and he led her to the serving table and even began to introduce her to some of the other guests. Derek glowered for the rest of the party.

She had danced and sang merrily with them but, as nymphs often do, had grown bored and took her leave of them after an hour or two. Stiles had been so engrossed in her as a guest that wasn’t going to kill them, that he had forgotten to tell Jackson that he didn’t have to follow Melissa around anymore. In fact, Melissa became very uncomfortable with all of Jackson’s attentions and had to be socially saved from him by John who stepped in and pretended like he just had to fix that leaky faucet in the upstairs bathroom and so Melissa needed to come with them.  
Stiles watched his future parents laughing and whispering together next to the tree and felt quite proud of himself. Derek plopped down on the couch next to him, putting his arm around the boy, and huffed.  
“I told you that mistletoe was a bad idea.”  
“You did,” Stiles agreed, “and it’s okay that you were wrong. I don’t expect you to be perfect.”  
“Wrong?” Annoyance flashed across Derek’s eyes. Stiles patted him on the knee.  
“It was a great turn out! She was tons of fun and look at Melissa and my dad?” Stiles gestured towards them and sighed as if it was all too romantic. “I told you it was going to work out great.”  
“You dork,” Derek grumbled.  
“You want to go upstairs and see my future bedroom? I can show you where I’m going to hang my ‘Alien’ posters.”  
“Any mistletoe up there?”  
“Hardy-har,” Stiles said but then, looking at the way Derek’s mouth was quirking upwards at the ends, realized that he wasn’t asking to make fun of Stiles. “We can improvise,” Stiles suggested and they were up the stairs like a shot.


End file.
